


they say that dreaming is free (i wouldn't care what it cost me)

by hollow_city



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Episode: s03e22 Infantino Street, F/M, Major Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 17:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10926693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollow_city/pseuds/hollow_city
Summary: two seconds stretched into a lifetime.





	they say that dreaming is free (i wouldn't care what it cost me)

**Author's Note:**

> i've been crying for the past ten minutes since the episode ended. i'm a complete and utter wreck. don't mind me while i use writing to make myself feel better. title from 26 by paramore; been looping that since the episode ended. also not proofread because fuck.

( _Hold onto hope, if you've got it...)_

It didn't seem real to Barry. Nothing about Savitar seemed real. Nothing about any of this seemed like it would ever come to be, no matter how often and how deep he thought about it.

What kind of sick, twisted version of him would have the stomach to end Iris's life? Surely there couldn't be any version of him that would do that. He loves her too much, no matter what happens. She's his everything. His light, his anchor, his life. 

Iris West, the true savior of Central City. The woman of his dreams. The one thing that kept him grounded. 

All of these things made it seem impossible to live a life without her, so why would anyone, especially  _Barry Allen_ himself be the one to take her away? That just didn't seem possible. Not on this Earth, at least. Maybe on another, distant Earth. A hard maybe. 

But Barry still tried. He tried everything that he possibly could to make sure that his Iris West did not die. To make sure that things would go differently, no matter what. He was willing to do just about anything and he's not sure how far he would've let it go, had it gotten to that point. Maybe he would've killed. Maybe he would've killed  _himself._ He doesn't know.

But he damn well tried. He researched every single solitary thing that Cisco wrote down and he made sure it was different. That robber was stopped by Kid instead and that obscure meta was stopped by Flash instead. He cut his hair differently and he bought new clothes, however futile that attempt may have seemed. Anything was something. And something should've been enough.

As the day drew nearer and nearer he began to panic. Just a little bit here and there, when it would suddenly strike him. When the sun would shine just the right way off of Iris's face and he would remember that maybe he would never get to see her like that again. And then he would remember that it wasn't going to happen, and he was going to save the woman of his dreams from this monster. 

But then came Caitlin. She turned and she went against them and she worked for Savitar, and it broke Barry's heart just a little bit more. He knew it could've happened, but he thought it wouldn't. He knows that Julian didn't mean anything by what he did, besides saving Caitlin's life, because he loved her too much. And Barry can understand that. He can really understand that. So he can't blame Julian for the present unfolding the way the future said it would. 

" _Killer Frost still at large._ " He can't blame Julian for that. They all tried to stop it, but they just couldn't. Simple and cold and fact. 

(... _d_ _on't let it go for nobody._ )

And maybe they could deal with that. Just because Caitlin Snow became Killer Frost did not mean Iris West would be lost. He held onto that string of hope like a lifeline and he ran with it. 

He worked his damn ass off until he found out that  _he_ was Savitar. That he became the monster that ripped her away from him. He, somehow, someway, became so screwed in the head that he shoved his hand through her chest and tore her heart to pieces. And he just couldn't accept that. He couldn't deal with that.

So he disassociated. That Barry was not this Barry, it was not him. He was not that Barry, and he never would be. If he thought that, and he stuck with that, then it would be true. He would not be that Barry. He would not kill Iris, no matter what he had to stop to do it. 

( _Reality will break your heart._ )

The more they talked about it, the more his mind wandered. What would happen if she didn't die? They would plan their wedding (it would be a summer wedding, no matter what Iris said about a fall wedding) and they would invite  _everybody._ Cisco, Joe, Julian, HR, Jesse, Wally, Harry, Oliver, Felicity,  _Captain Singh_ , for fuck's sake. It would be wonderful and he would marry the woman of his dreams. 

Maybe he would get promoted and he would be the Flash for a few more years and then maybe Iris would be pregnant, and they would start their own little family. He'd always wanted twins. Maybe they'd have twins. He could just picture it; him leaning over Iris and the two tiny babies, arguing quietly over what to name them ( _No, Bartholomew Allen, you are not naming my child that. Try something else. That's even worse, how could you come up with something even worse? How about...?_ ). He could just see it. They'd grow up to be strong, intelligent people who upheld the law and helped those in need. Who knows, maybe they'd even inherit his powers. 

But even he knew how far-fetched that idea was. Because he was tough. And that meant Savitar was just as tough. Everything that Barry thought about, Savitar thought about, everything that Barry was, Savitar was. And that made it difficult. It meant that at some point, somewhere, Savitar loved Iris just as much as he does. And that meant he would kill her. 

He couldn't accept that. 

( _It's keeping all your hopes alive_.)

And then it was twenty-four hours before she was to die. Everything was going perfectly - as perfect as it could. Len proved to be a formidable partner in crime, and Lyla pulled through for him. He obtained that alien tech to power to Speed-Force bazooka that Tracy swore  _should_ work. He sent Len back to the past with the Legends, and he handed the alien tech off to Tracy. 

And maybe he should've blamed HR for talking but he couldn't because why should he? He is Barry Allen and Barry Allen is smart. Savitar is Barry Allen and Savitar is smart. It was not HR's fault. He was tricked.

Then it was just minutes away. Iris was in Savitar's clutches, Wally was crippled for at least a few hours, Joe was panicking, HR was beating himself up beyond belief. It was messy and it was surely not anything that would save Iris's life, but it would have to be. Whatever they had would have to be enough, because she simply could not die. What would he do if she died?

( _All the rest of you has died._ )

But it wasn't enough. The Speed-Force bazooka didn't fucking work, and he was left standing in the middle of the grass as Savitar snatched Iris from her spot and held her above the ground.

He was too slow. He was  _always_ too slow. He would always be too slow.

( _So let it break your heart_.) 

Barry screamed like his life depended on it, and like Iris's life depended on it, because it was all he could do. He ran and he pushed himself as fast as he could possibly go, even faster. But it wasn't enough and it would never be enough, no matter how hard he tried. He did everything in his power to keep her by his side, to keep her alive, but it wasn't enough.

Never, in any timeline, in any decade, would it have been enough. 

His dreams that held snapshots of Iris as a mother and as his wife and as the badass, famed journalist would never come true. She would never marry him, she would never have those twins that he'd always wanted, and she would never be that badass journalist that she could be. 

And as he sat there on his knees in the dirt, her limp and blood-soaked body cradled against his chest, he watched as those dreams slipped away. They slipped away and they would never become reality, because here she was, in his arms, taking her last breath.

He screamed his despair to the sky and he watched her eyes blink for one last time.

Now, the woman of his dreams would be exactly that. Nothing more than a _dream_.

 

( _They say that dreaming is free, but I wouldn't care what it cost me.)_


End file.
